The Earthquake Discovery
by Beckintime
Summary: This is my round 10 submission for the houses competition year 2! House: Ravenclaw Year: 2 Category: Short Prompt:[Weather] Earthquake Word count: 926


A/N:

House: Ravenclaw

Year: 2

Category: Short

Prompt:[Weather] Earthquake

Word count: 926

Fate had already made an impact on Neville Longbottom's life. Taking his grandfather from him and also his parents' sanity. Life wasn't easy, and it was difficult for Neville to believe in anything such as 'fate,' especially after everything that had happened. But he did. He believed that everything happened for a reason, there was some beauty in thinking that they were all there for a purpose; to make something of the world and leave it in a better place than where they found it.

He sat in his room, pondering this for a moment, rerunning any happy memories of his grandfather and parents through his mind as if he were watching a recording. He only had a few very hazy memories of his parents, who, unfortunately, had been absent since he was only an infant, so he hadn't had the opportunity to grow up with them. But he had many happy a memory of his grandparents to compensate.

He tended to bake with his grandmother, which he had enjoyed, but his true hobby started when his grandfather took him out the back and taught him how to plant flowers - starting with more mundane breeds of plant before planting some magical ones. Neville's favourite flowers were lilies, he planted them every year with his grandfather, when he was alive that is, and Neville continued the tradition after he had died. As kind of a tribute to him. Right now he had a particular breed of Easter lilies growing, his grandfather's favourites.

Neville sighed. The world had taken him too soon.

"Neville," The voice of Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, called from below. "Dinner's ready."

Neville got up gradually. "Coming, Nan," he called back. He got off his bed and padded down the stairs of their small cottage to the kitchen. It was homely, very traditional, no central heating but rather a fireplace, exposed brick walls, and white ceilings with dark oak beams cross-hatching the entire structure. He liked his grandparents' house though it was very…. _them_.

"Have you washed your hands, Neville?"

"Yes, Nan," He eye-rolled as he sat down at the table, mouth watering at the steaming hot pot in front of him.

"Good, you may start then."

They both tucked in, Neville serving his grandmother before himself, as she had taught him to do. Halfway through the meal, she broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

"Don't you think we need to start looking at a couple of potential muggle schools, my boy?"

"Nan, I've told you, my letter will come in due course, on my birthday, like everyone else's" He was often remarked as being too rational and mature for ten years old. Most looked at him with pity as they gave him that particular compliment, blaming it on unfortunate circumstances forcing him to grow up before his time.

"I know, but it couldn't hurt to have a look. Your magic hasn't been the most forthcoming..." She trailed off.

"Yeah, I know." he muttered quietly, remembering the time he was dropped, head first off Blackpool pier which nearly ended up in him drowning. Another one of his Nan's ideas to kickstart his magical ability.

"Don't you talk under your breath, young man," Neville's grandmother warned. "I just would have thought, considering how proficient your parents were with their magic, that your abilities might have also shown themselves by now."

Neville just sat in silence, he didn't want to argue, he knew of his grandmother's concerns about him, and the dishonour that the fact the son of the famous mad Aurors, Alice and Frank Longbottom, was, in fact, a Squib. He just really hoped it wasn't true.

It was then, that the room started to shake, violently.

Crockery smashed as it hit the tiled floor and Neville dived under the table, trying trying to understand the source of the commotion. It was a sensory overload; his vision was a blur of falling objects, his nan being one of them as she crashed from her chair to her floor. He called out to her but his voice seemed drowned out by the tumultuous rumble of the entire building shaking as if it was falling apart.

"Nan, no!" Neville called out as a bookshelf fell towards his grandmother, who lay on the ground, wand too far away to reach. He outstretched his hand toward her, a strange warmth passed through him as his heart seized with anxiety, he had lost so many people, not her too, he couldn't - he wouldn't.

It was at that time he realised the shaking had stopped, as had the bookshelves decent. His grandmother looked at him in amazement.

"Neville, my boy, you _saved_ me," her voice cracked with disbelief and her eyes sparkled with tears of shock and happiness.

Neville ran out from under the table and hugged his nan, now safely away from the bookshelf that had promptly resumed to crash to the floor as soon as he broke concentration.

He looked around their home that now lay in ruins as he helped his grandmother outside to safety.

"What was that?"

"It felt like an earthquake. We better get to safety. They're usually followed by shockwaves. But before we do that, Neville, look at me." Neville gaze rose from her hands which he held as tightly as he could, frankly terrified.

"You're magical," She whispered, and even though they had just been in a freak earthquake, she cracked a smile. He couldn't help but feel a soft glow heat up his cheeks as he smiled back. He was _magic_.


End file.
